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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908336">i might just go psycho</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/happypuppys/pseuds/happypuppys'>happypuppys</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the dream team fics [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Stabbing, Villain Wilbur Soot, all my fics have the three same tags LMAO</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:55:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/happypuppys/pseuds/happypuppys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilbur’s hands were coated in the blondes blood.</p><p>They were sat on the edge of the cliff, a sword laid discarded to the side. The green cloak was underneath it, thrown to the side before the fight had begun. His armor was on top of it as well, leaving the man in only his thinnest of clothes, him shivering in the cold night.</p><p>or, Wilbur reveals himself as the villain</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Wilbur Soot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the dream team fics [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>259</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i might just go psycho</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>im listening to saint bernard as im posting this and im so UNSETTLED im listening with headphones and just!!! fuck!!!!</p><p>this is dedicated to lance bc i said i might need to stop bc ive written like 20 mcyt fics (drafts oops) and she said to not stop so hi ily (I PUT THE WRONG PRONOUNS THE FUCK)</p><p>title from psycho! by masn</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wilbur’s hands were coated in the blondes blood.</p><p>They were sat on the edge of the cliff, a sword laid discarded to the side. The green cloak was underneath it, thrown to the side before the fight had begun. His armor was on top of it as well, leaving the man in only his thinnest of clothes, him shivering in the cold night.</p><p>Wilbur’s clothes were becoming more and more stained as he kneeled beside him, blood soaking through his pants.</p><p>“Why?” Dream croaked out, and Wilbur smiled down at him.</p><p>“Because it’s fun.” He said, fingers reaching out to trace down Dream’s face, leaving a trail of blood in his path. “Don’t you ever wanna be the villain sometimes? Don’t you ever wanna rebel, just to see what would happen?”</p><p>The blonde shakes his head, trying to prop himself up, but failing. His mouth opens, but no words come out, and Wilbur watches as he dies slowly, fading more and more, until he’s gone in the next instance.</p><p>He hums, getting up from his position, and walks over to the items left over. </p><p>“Wonder what I’ll do with these,” He mumbles to himself, gathering all of the items and starting his walk back to l’manberg.</p><p>-</p><p>Here’s a fun fact about respawning: it doesn’t really restart you. It does basically turn your body anew, and it does heal all your wounds and make anything that was broken be while again.</p><p>It doesn’t fix your torn clothes, though. And it doesn’t clean the mud on your arms, or the grass stains on your clothes, or the blood on your chest. It doesn’t clean you, and you look just how you did when you died, minus the wounds.</p><p>He woke up in his bed, and the blood was still on his chest, still on his stomach, and he could nearly feel the pulsing of the blood going out of him, could nearly see his shirt going from a light green to a dark green as quick as that. He could see the blood that had stained the grass and turned it sticky, could see the sword piercing his body once, twice.</p><p>He leaned over and vomited.</p><p>When Dream finally opened his eyes, he saw Sap standing in the doorway, a concerned look on his face. The raven-haired boy looked worried, and he shouldn’t be worried for Dream, not now, not ever.</p><p>He tries to speak, but a whine builds in his throat, and he finds that tears are streaming down his face instead of the words he wanted to say. His hands clutch the sheets, twisting them tightly, and arms curl around him, protecting him.</p><p>He cries into Sap’s shoulder, hands wrapping around his body instead. The blood is still underneath his nails, but he finds that this information only makes him cry harder.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” He cries, but he doesn’t know what he’s sorry for.</p><p>He stays in his arms for as long as he could, until Sap pulls away, hands pushing Dream back so that he could look at him, eyes focusing on every little detail.</p><p>“What happened?” He asks, eyes catching Dreams.</p><p>“Wilbur’s the villain.” He rubs his eye, trying to ignore how sad he must look. “He told me he wanted to discuss something, and I thought that was normal, so I went without anything except armor. And then, we were just talking and he just stabbed me.” His hands curl into fists at that word, and if Sap notices, he doesn’t say anything. “He stabbed me twice, and shoved me down, and his hands were covered in my blood, and, and-“ </p><p>He stops, covering his face with his hands as he starts to cry again.</p><p>“He wanted to see me die.” He gets out, Sap wrapping his arms around him. “He looked so happy watching me bleed out.”</p><p>“He’s fucked up.” Sap declares, holding him tighter. “He’s a fucked up human being who we will stop, alright? I’m not sure everyone on his side will support him once he’s revealed his true intentions.”</p><p>“I want him to die.” He tells Sap, but they both know it’s a lie.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>will there be a part two? maybe idk i wrote this in a haze after reading the words 'villain wilbur soot' ok</p><p>anyways i have a test in spanish in like 10 hours LMAO but do i give a fuck? yes very much but at this point i genuinely do not care</p></blockquote></div></div>
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